


The Other Side

by D3moira



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Grady Memorial Hospital, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, One-Sided Attraction, POV Alternating, Roleplay, Roleplay Logs, Slow Burn, Tumblr Roleplay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-28 14:07:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6332155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D3moira/pseuds/D3moira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They all had jobs to do, but it's hard to know what your job is when you're so distracted by something else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Had To Be

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU fic, based under the assumption that Beth was shot and survived, while Dawn was shot and died. It picks up shortly after they leave Grady, with Beth and Daryl's perspectives. This is a freeform roleplay, written by Daryl ([dcryl](http://dcryl.tumblr.com/), myself) and Beth ([littlexsongxbird](http://littlexsongxbird.tumblr.com/), my friend) from tumblr. Each alternating section is Beth and Daryl's perspectives. Please let us know if there's any issues with how this reads, or any feedback on how to make it easier for you.
> 
> It begins with Beth's PoV, then Daryl's, and alternates from there.

After everything that had happened it felt good to be among people she knew she could trust, with a few new faces added to their small family she knew they’d make it work. Taking a deep breath she looked out the window - the worry that she’d had of never seein’ any of them again had finally lifted off her chest and was now replaced with a deeply satisfied contentment. Settled in the back seat of the car she looked at Daryl then at Carol.

“How’d you find me?” she asked softly looking between the two.

**_..._ **

Daryl wasn’t trusting his voice, not with Beth at his side, closer than close. Proximity because of necessity, that was fine. Adrenaline masked his awkwardness, and pushed him into a different place. There was still nervous energy in him about their exit from Grady. He kept casting furtive glances back at the building.

He wanted sorely to go back there and clear it out, top to bottom. It wasn’t practical, and given the mix of prisoner and patrol, he wouldn’t know who was responsible. He looked to Beth when she spoke, shrugging a shoulder. “Signs were there…” Daryl turned his attention back out the window, flipping off the hospital as it disappeared around a corner.

...

Glancing at Daryl she smiled and remembered that night they’d burned that house down and flipped it off as it collapsed in front of them. “Well, I’m happy to be out of there,” she said as she looked at the seat in front of her. There were many things she thought about when she was walking out of the building one of them was how reckless she’d been while in there; how she had managed to do things she’d never in a million years imagined she could do blew her mind. It was like her instincts kicked in and survival was the one thing one her mind.

Beth shook the thought of Gorman when he entered her mind, him and that damn lollipop; a candy she knew she’d never look at the same again.  What he’d have done to her if that girl hadn’t of died on the floor of Dawns office - he’d have broken her mentally and emotionally in ways she didn’t know if she’d have repaired from. “I should have waited closer to the house,” she said to him as she looked over at him again then winced as the cuts on her face stung slightly.

...

Daryl couldn’t, and wouldn’t, understand Beth’s time at Grady. It was clean in a horror movie kind of way, with too perfect walls, and too guarded outposts. It was a wonder the place stayed standing in times like this, but with the munitions and trained officers, it became clearer. He’s content to sit in silence with her, no interest in spitting fire and fumes about what had happened. She was here, and they were gonna get out of here. That was the most important part.

❛What?❜ Daryl looks past Beth to Carol, who was propped against the car door. She was passed out from the looks of it, and Rick was up front with Michonne. Neither of them seemed likely to weigh in, and Daryl thought it should have been Maggie here, now, speaking in soft words to soothe Beth. But it was him, and he had to try. He shifted, fingers raking through his messy bangs.

 

 _I should’a looked outside. I should’a gone with you. I should’a run faster, or taken a shot at one of the wheels._ Daryl has thought through the list of things he’d do differently since that night, and it didn’t help an inch. ❛Hindsight ain’t gonna do shit f’you.❜ Daryl elbowed the door, tongue darting across his lips. He wants to do more, say more, but it’s not happening.

…

When Beth looked at him she didn’t know what to say because he _was right_ , thinking back to what she should’ve or could have done differently was going to change what had actually happened. If she could go back though, she’d change a lot of things she’d done. Of course she felt like a new person now, having fended for herself in terms of protection but the whole situation was pretty bad as a whole; no one knew how they’d react in a situation where they were held captive and healed then forced into servitude for rescuing they never wanted in the first place. 

“Guess so,” she said to him lightly then peered out the window to her right, “Just happy you’re okay,”

Having wondered what had happened to him after she was taken she knew that they had a lot to tell her, and part of her wanted to tell them what had happened to her while she was there. Beth had fought tooth and nail - refusing to become a victim to the abuse of their power; never understanding how Dawn could let that happen to people she had swore herself to protect. Beth saw it now, to save herself from the same fate she’d subjected those she had _rescued_ to keep the peace - she didn’t understand it and she’d never claim to but she knew now what had happened.

“They were rapin’ the female patients,” she whispered as she stared out the window, “said it was part of the back payment for havin’ been rescued,”

...

❛I had t’be.❜ Daryl didn’t have the luxury of falling behind, given that his skill set was too useful to the group. If he had an off day, or didn’t feel like going out, the group would suffer. It wasn’t arrogance so much as the _truth_. He wouldn’t tell her how he had ran after that car for a full day, or how he’d collapsed at a fork in the road, or how he’d been ready to embrace an end. It wasn’t about him, or his pity party, or how he had suffered. He had gotten back to Rick and the others, and he had seen their group in full. It was like she had said, though a few faces were lost along the way.

Daryl leaned back so she had an easier time looking out the window, but his arm had long since crossed over the back of the seat. It wasn’t all that more comfortable, but it meant he was touching her less, and taking up less space in the back. There’s another quiet moment between them, and he’s half afraid of what she’s gonna say next. Her expression wasn’t what he recalled, but it was to be expected. Her expressions would be different now, pinched by the scars at her cheek and forehead. She kept that same look, out the window, seeing things he couldn’t, and he was worried. Not outwardly, but he kept his focus on her.

And it was just as he’d thought. He can’t disguise the intake of breath, or how his hand tightens on his knee and on the back of the chair. His jaw is working in small, tight circles, and he’s chewing his inner cheek till it was raw.

❛Rescued my _ass_ .❜ Daryl flatly smacked the back of Michonne’s chair, regret following. She shot a nasty look back at him, but he quickly realized it wasn’t about him. She heard as much as Rick did. Daryl swallowed hard, head jerking to better look at Beth. ❛One of the fuckers in the hall? Were they there?❜ Did Daryl miss a chance to make things right? He’s had a chance to erase those fuckers from the earth, though temptation wasn’t just to shoot them. No. It was to hurt them bad enough they died, and turned, and then let them rot through life as one of the monsters they already _were_.

Feasting and scrabbling, ruining whatever they got their nasty hands and mouths on. Daryl adjusted himself again, restless, angry, and with no outlet for this energy. His arm had since slipped around Beth, hand firmly attached to her shoulder. He didn’t really _care_ at this point. Unless she shoved him away, this is where he was.

...

She was quiet for a moment then looked at him, “I killed ‘em.,” she whispered softly then sighed. “He had cornered me in Dawn’s office, another girl had been dead in her office; not real clear what happened I used her to kill him,” Beth wasn’t proud that she had killed Gorman – but she was proud she had took a piece of scum off the earth. Self entitlement wasn’t attractive nor was it necessary in a world where the dead walked the Earth. Her face was blank still as she remembered when he’d pressed that sucker against her lips – a disgusting replacement for what he’d actually wanted to do to her.

“I think when they grabbed me they hit me with their car, that’s why I got knocked over and cut up so bad,” she said as she rubbed the bruises on her arm. “I would have felt safer in room full of _walkers_ than alone in a room with _that man_ ,”

Beth could see Rick look up in the rear view mirror at her, she knew no one liked the scenario she’d been put in but she couldn’t hold it in anymore. The entire time she’d been there had been nothing but pure hell and fear coursing through her veins. Getting Noah out had been her biggest accomplishment besides getting rid of Gorman; she had thought the’re be a feeling of guilt when she’d killed him. There wasn’t, there was nothing but the rush of knowing she had survived; and she had protected herself.

“But I’m alive, that’s all that matters,” she said to no one in particular, she was silent for a moment then let out a sigh, “Everything’s gonna be alright, I’m gonna be alright,”

Her voice broke at the last word as she fought of the tears because she truly didn’t know if she was going to be alright.

...

While Daryl worked hard to push things beneath the surface, Beth did not. Given her time at the farm, with how she had kept everything to herself, and had taken it out on herself, this was an improvement. He didn’t have any practice in this, not really. He would console those in the group when they came to him, but he didn’t have nice words or hopeful mantras. All he had was a shoulder and his attention. He swallowed hard, looking between the two in the front. They were keeping out of the conversation, but he knew they’d come to him later.

❛Good.❜ Daryl kept a firm around around her, fingers flexing against her arm. He didn’t want to hold her too close, or risk hitting some part of her that ached, but she’d understand. He hoped, at least. He didn’t even know what he was doing, because he’d climbed into this car with the full intent of keeping as distant from her as possible. Now he had an arm around her shoulders, resisting the urge to hold her hand or touch her hair or something else – his mind stung at the thought. Wasn’t like that. Wasn’t anything he could offer to her beyond this.

❛Y’with Maggie, and Glenn, and all a’us.❜ And he hoped that was enough. She seemed resolute, even if she was lying. the crackle of her voice, the welling at her eyes, the wrinkles of a woman about to cry cut across her face. He winced, eyebrows dropping lower on his forehead. He wanted some better words, something to make everything wash away, but it wasn’t going to happen. All he could do was, tuck her closer, chin on her head, eyes set on Carol.

Daryl wasn’t a hugger. He wasn’t one to use physical closeness to make anyone feel better, especially not himself. In the year (or more?) he’d known Beth, he’d come to understand her. He could afford himself the uncertainty, the unfamiliar, if it made _her_ feel better. He hoped she would be okay, he hoped Beth would be okay, and he really hoped Rick and Michonne wouldn’t have anything to say when they stopped.

...

With every deep breath she took she was fighting off the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes, her hands were shaking as she held onto her hem of her shirt. It had taken her a long time to come to terms with everything that had happened to her since she’d been away from the group. The fear of being lost again was the one thing that scared her, but being held in his arms was giving her some kind of comfort.

“I know,” she whispered as she sniffled quietly and she attempted to wipe her eyes but winced when she hit the cut on her cheek. Beth had almost forgotten about the cuts on her face, she wasn’t sure how she could have but she had. Looking at her hand she sighed when she saw she’d made it begin to bleed she pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and pressed it to her face with a small wince.

Tears fell from her eyes out of frustration more than anything due to not be able to express herself properly and being sore all over. Between being slapped and tossed to the group by the ‘cops’ at Grady Memorial she felt like she’d been thrown through a wood chipper. Bruises littered her body – she had one down her back and on her right side, down her leg and then several cuts across her face.

“I wish I could forget,” she whispered as she looked at him for a moment then licked her lips, she rubbed her hands on the knees of her pants as she leaned into him without realizing it. Beth just wanted to be close to someone, someone she trusted who she knew would never hurt her. Maggie was riding with Glenn but there wasn’t enough room where she had been sitting so she opted to ride with Daryl, Carol, Michonne and Rick.

...

Daryl didn’t want to see her cry, and he really didn’t want to see her mess up her cuts with rubbing her face. He couldn’t stop her from doing either, but he really wanted to help. This wasn’t par for course, not in his experience. He didn’t like to see people suffering, but his gut instinct was to tell them why they were being little bitches and to move on. If someone was acting like a pussy, he had few qualms in letting them know. Right now? Even the thought of saying either of those things made him want to punch himself, because she didn’t need that, and she didn’t _deserve_ that.

Force of dumb habit, he knew. This coded way of thinking, with tears a sign of weakness and a show. All a big cry for attention, woe is me, that bullshit. He’d seen her cry too many times. At first he’d thought she was weak, for showing her feelings so clearly, but no. Fuck that. It came with her anger, it came with her sadness, and it came with who she was. She was unapologetic, and she was suffering, and she hadn’t a damn thing to be ashamed of. He admired the bravery in her, for putting up with Grady, and for walking out with her head held high.

At least those fuckers would never know of her tears now. They were _dead_. All the way, he hoped.

Beth leaned into him, which was more than he expected. They had been close before she’d been abducted, and he worried, selfishly, if they’d lose that. He looked down at her, resisting the urge to clean the blood off her jawline, led there by one of the tears that’d made it past her rubbing. He thumbed it quickly, rubbing it off on his pants, not a thought given to the mix of blood and salt. ❛You can try.❜ Daryl looked away from her, to Rick and Michonne, then to Carol again, as if searching for advice.

❛You’re outta there now, y’with family, an’…❜ Daryl sighed again, settling back against the chair without moving her. ❛World like this, it’s the best we got. I’m proud of you, though.❜ He added that quickly, hoarsely, not wanting to dwell on it.

...

Beth knew she would be fine but it didn’t stop the ache that filled every part of her body. The knowing that it was over is what helped her get through it though, her heart shuddered of the thought of still being stuck there in that hospital . “I’ll be fine I have to be we all have jobs - we don’t get to be upset,” she said softly repeating the words her Daddy had said time and time again. The world had become a pretty nasty place, and before all this Beth was a girl who wouldnt’ have survived - she was just another dead girl.

The second that she was taught and told differently is when she changed her mind, she wanted to live. She knew that the second she’d cut her wrists in the bathroom back at the farm - dying wasn’t an option for her. Taking a deep breath she choked back the sobs that filled her throat then began to relax back into her seat as she breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth. Fighting off any and all panic attacks seemed like to be a good start for her - it’d help her feel as if she had some control over her life even if she didn’t.

Beth thought about her daddy and how she had hoped to see him again; even when she knew he was gone Beth had thought about seeing him when she walked out of that hospital and it gave her hope - false hope but it was what kept her going. Seeing Maggie was a close second on the list of people she’d wanted to see because her Sister mean the work and more to her. Then the very next person she’d wanted to see had been Daryl.

To say she’d been worried about him would be a hell of an understatement. Beth didn’t know how the dynamic between the two had changed; but she felt closer to him than most of the group. “We’ll all be okay,” she whispered softly as she looked up at him then sighed before she rested back against her seat once more hoping maybe she’d get some sleep before they got to where they were going; but her eyes could close because when they did all she saw was what happened there at the hospital and how she felt like this whole car ride was a dream.

...

It hurt to hear her sound so defeated, from a place that he could have kept her from. While she had all her limbs, and seemed physically in order, there were the scratches across her face that would undoubtedly scar. Then there was the suffering, emotionally, mentally. The bruises that peeked out from her sleeves and shirt, it was enough to send his blood boiling all over again. He fistsed the knees of his jeans, teeth grit against the unkind words that wouldn’t help her.

The car continued a while until they reached a rundown motel on the outskirts of the town. It had been a bed and breakfast, a shitty thing with more bed bugs than anything else. They’d cleared it with the intent of returning here to come up with their next plan of attack. They didn’t have a _place_. They had each other, and that was about it. The bus Maggie and Glenn had come in rolled up, and the others quickly approached.

Rick and Michonne were quick out the car, at Carol’s side. Neither wanted to linger, especially not with Carol on the brink of unconsciousness. He opened his door, boot kicking it the full way open. He was out and standing, still fuming. There were a few lone walkers shambling outside the lot, and he had his chance.

❛Y’only job is to rest.❜ Daryl snapped. It was a midway point, support with concern, anger channeled into care. It was the best he could do with how little an outlet he had. Without waiting for Beth to get out, he was helping the others fighting off a few stragglers. They went down like sacks of shit, no different from every other walker. They snapped, they hissed, then they died. Smelled like shit, too, but you got used to that. You had to.


	2. Stay.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The motel isn't so bad, but it's not great. There's a little bit of house keeping, and plans for a sleepover.

Beth listened to Daryl as he told her to stay back. She didn’t want to get in his way if there were a lot of walkers in the room, but so far she didn’t see or smell anything. Beth was kind of excited about sleeping in a clean bed with clean sheets.

“ There’s a second bed in this room you could take that one if you want. ” Beth pointed at the bed, to match her offer.

He was quiet and didn’t really seem to want to talk to her much. She wondered if she had been imagining the moments she felt were special. Brushing off the thoughts she looked at the room he had just search and walked to the bathroom and turned the faucet and to her surprise – it _worked_.

“There is working water here!”

Beth was too excited for words. All she could think about was taking a nice shower. Even if the hot water didn’t work, it was better than nothing. Beth tested the shower and that worked too – the water didn’t smell or run in a off color; it was near perfect. Knowing they couldn’t stay here only made it more tragic; the motel was on a major road one a lot of people would actually have to travel to get anywhere. Beth walked around the room , she opened all the drawers and checked the closet finding nothing but some slippers and clean white robes – they even smelled good still. Maybe a little stale, but they didn’t stink.

Taking  a deep breath she checked the sheets and the corners of the bed for bed bugs – she really didn’t want to be in that kind of trouble; those things were hard to get rid of and if they were in the cars they’d have to ditch them and their clothes behind which wasn’t something she exactly wanted to do. Beth heard a noise and looked up, it was coming from next door; it was a loud  _ thud  _ and she walked to the door taking a peek out looking for signs of walkers near her door but it looked like they were all pretty much cleared. 

“Daryl, you okay?”

She walked to the room she expected him to be in, and she saw the dead walker on the floor but he was nowhere to be seen. She didn’t know where he could have gone off to but she couldn’t get the sickening feeling that he was avoiding her. Beth had hoped that after everything that had been through together that they could actually talk  - she had a lot of questions for him that she didn’t know when or if they would get answered. Beth exited the room then walked out and smiled when she saw Glenn.

“Your sister is freaking out that you’re wanting your own room; do you mind if I ask why?” Glenn asked, he was protective of them both – he was her brother-in-law so she supposed he had a right to know. 

“I want quiet, you two talk a lot – no offense but I just want some time inside my head,” she said to him shrugging a little as she pushed a hand through her hair. After everything she’d witnessed she didn’t think a little quiet would be so hard to witness. It’d been about a full day since she’d left there and all she could think about was what would have happened if she hadn’t of done certain things. 

Glennnodded then put a hand on her shoulder. “You know where we are if you need us – we’ll be next door,” he said, “it’s the best I could do to keep her calm.”

Bethgave him an appreciative smile then watched as he walked away , she getting’ real tired of being treated like she was gonna _die_ or something. Like she was going to _break_ or  _w_ _orse._ The one thing she knew was she was stronger than they gave her credit for, but they all still looked at her as if she was a broken being. She wasn’t anymore broken than anyone else in the group – she didn’t understand.

**_..._ **

The motel was full of _potential_ walkers, and too many doors to check. It was going to take careful attention and a steady pace to check the whole complex. Daryl resolved to check the ground level first from the closest door where he’d left Beth all the way to the back. There was that pent up aggression that had mounted when Beth had described her time at Grady, and Daryl couldn’t do much about that. Nothing constructive. He couldn't bundle up the feelings and pack them away neatly, they were alive in his veins, and curling his lips, and he needed to let it _out_.

While it wasn’t healthy to feel proper rage towards the walkers, it helped. Lord, how it _helped_. He was doing something, being useful, protecting her -- protecting _everyone_ made him feel more at peace. It made him feel like he hadn’t completely screwed up, when in all truth, he had. He'd screwed up plenty of times, in plenty of places, and right now he was making up for it.

The sounds of happiness from behind him as Beth cheered about water, about the basics she should have readily available, he had to press on. He couldn’t explain why, but her being so lighthearted after all she had been through, it kept this nasty cycle of guilt and stress, and he couldn’t explain it. He couldn’t understand it, and it made him want to be away from her. Not so far away that he left her, just… Away. Away enough that he didn't feel like touching her, like she was there, close enough to... To _what_? Daryl felt his stomach revolt against his throat, and he swallowed hard.

His stomach didn’t get unsettled by brains being smashed in, exposed organs, guts, decay, all the grit and grim he dealt with on a daily basis, but it did around her.

_ Figures. _

Darylmechanically continued through each room, checking the corners, arm up, knife ready. The time in the car had been a lot to take in. It was a case of too much of a good thing, he wagered. He had spent, shit, months trying to find her. He had thought her alive, dead, and between, and he’d never really known what he would do after she was back. It wasn’t his place. But he wasn’t about to have Beth being around him, being happy, cause him grief. That was downright stupid, and he was going to sort this shit out.

It was easier to deal with the dead, because all he had to do was off them. There was the physical, which he understood. There was a pattern, and he felt remorse for the people they had been, but they were beyond help. They were nasty apparitions that needed help more than pity, and so he sent them off the only way he knew how. By the end of the rooms, he had only encountered four walkers. Most the rooms had been broken into, or out of, and people had taken to them. Only a few rooms remained in tact.

Daryl bit the bullet, and turned back to Beth. She was standing a ways back, and he could see Glenn sliding away. He willed himself forward, tongue fighting against his teeth and gums, and he resisted the urge to chew at his tongue. He approached her and stopped a few feet short, as if waiting for her blessing. He wasn’t inclined to claim a room, and he wasn’t going to haunt her. With her safe, and among their family again, his motivations were jumbled in his head. He had gotten what he wanted, she was safe, she was here, but now what?

That was the part that was scaring him more than he wanted to let on. He lingered by her, as he had done before the moonshine cabin. He’d keep to her, offering replies when she would speak, but with no opinion to offer.

Daryl had sheathed the knife, attention turned to the ground.

**_..._ **

Bethdidn’t know what was going in inside the head of Daryl Dixon. He seemed cut off and distant from the rest of the  group. To her, it seemed like he’d reverted back to how he used to be on the farm; he was still somewhat the same to her but his demeanor had changed – especially towards her. Taking in a large breath of air as she looked at him before she figured out what to say, her words that were usually well formed and eloquent were stuck in her throat like she was choking on a massive ball of unspoken words.

Ittook her a long while to figure out what she wanted to say, the fear that they were back on page one and that the moonshine cottage had been long forgotten scared her. From Beth’s understanding she felt something had changed, their dynamic as team had totally altered after that night – there couldn’t be goin’ back could there?

“Daryl?” she began softly. “My room has two beds – figured you’d be wantin’ somethin’ soft to sleep on.”

Her eyes examined his face, he looked tired – wouldn’t meet her eyes, she really wished she knew what this was all about. After everything she’d been through she had hoped for some kind of happiness but so far everyone seemed just as tense and apprehensive of the future as when she had been taken. There had been happy moments – like when she first saw her sister; she couldn’t shake the happiness that swelled in her chest seeing her sister standing next to Glenn – she always knew they’d find each other. Beth believed soul mates could call to one another in times of trouble, and she wondered if maybe hers was out there somewhere.

“Imean it’s not a problem, I know you like the quiet too and I think we could both use the silence after all that’s happened,” she spoke her voice even and unwavering; her emotions were the complete opposite. Still feeling the pressure that her life was on the line; every loud noise or yell sent the hair on the back of her neck standing up. She jumped when she heard Abraham’s loud boisterous laughter and she looked down at her hands awkwardly – she felt awkward, didn’t want people staring at her.

What's wrong with me?

**_..._ **

Thetime Daryl had spent with Rick and Carol, and all the rest, had taught Daryl too much about himself. He was deeply worried about others, but not in a position to express the concern. He could barely string two words together sometimes, let alone explain to others how he cared. Or that he cared at all. He had to hope that his actions spoke enough for him, and most of the time, they did. He had cleared out the walkers, and kept the pressure off Beth. He knew he couldn’t be there for her all the time. He’d have to give her space, and she would have to defend herself, but _for now_ , it was his main concern.

Not that he said as much. He kept this as close to his chest as possible, barely looking at her when she spoke. She was too sweet, too concerned about him, and where he would sleep. So long as there was a flat surface and some kind of _watch_ in place, he’d sleep anywhere. On the ground, in a five-star hotel, and everywhere in between. Beth had asked him to take a bed in the same room as her, and he was in two minds. He didn’t want to impose himself, but he didn’t want her on her own. He didn’t want her pestered, but he didn’t want people asking questions. Not that anyone was ignorant enough to presume Daryl had ill-intent.

Allhe wanted was to find a nice, quiet spot and smoke. At least he’d be able to level out the lingering _aggression_ , and edges to her attitude. The absolute fuckers who’d taken Beth had near _taken_ Beth, and he was trying his hardest not to let it show. It wasn’t her fault. It was no one’s fault. Except, it was his fault, obviously. That went without saying, but he couldn’t pinpoint where his mistakes _began_. They were a blur of poor choices, all packed on top of one another.

Daryl shrugged, hands working a cloth across and around the knife in hand. It’d get all messed up if the blood lingered, and they had time. They had nothing  _but_ time, felt like.

'Don’t matter t’me where I sleep.'

He looked to her, blank expression not quite masking the focus he kept on her. He didn’t know when he’d become so  _ focused _ , not on one other person. He couldn’t think of a time. Not outside of trying to find someone, or keep someone safe. But Beth was here, now, flesh and blood, solid and very much there, but he couldn’t  _ feel  _ that. Either he was somewhere else, or she was, but there was a disconnect.

Daryl wished he had more to say, more words to offer, something, anything, some kind of reassurance, or a joke, or anything. But all he had was an overwhelming sense of relief that she was _here_ , mixed with the worry about how to keep her around. He didn’t keep people around. People left his life, ideally by choice. They moved on, did better things. If they weren’t as lucky, they left by others’ intent. They passed, they were buried, mourned. So why was he looking at Beth as if she were a ghost?

'You eaten?'

...

Beth shook her head.

“No, I haven’t.” The thought of food made her stomach growl in response – she hadn’t eaten something substantial in a long time. Even when she was at Grady Memorial she only took what she needed to get by, never more or less. After watched him for a moment then looked down at her feet it was surreal seeing him again. While she’d been abducted there had been a moment when she thought she’d never see anyone she loved again; Maggie, Glenn, Carl and Judith… Daryl.

Her mind often wandered to the two days they spent at the funeral home and the suggestion he’d given her to think about; she only wished she’d answered sooner – maybe then she wouldn’t have been taken, maybe they would have left the funeral home sooner but like he’d said to her; wondering about what if’s were never going to fix what happened. It was never going to bring back the hope for humanity she’d once had, now all she knew was that being with the group was enough.

“Well, I won’t accept you sleepin’ outside; it’s not safe , so make you up somewhere safe to sleep.” She slowly turned to walk into the room she’d claimed as her own. Beth sat on the bed then opened the nightstand next to the bed inside were little pamphlets of things to do in the area and some chocolates that were usually sat on the pillows – it was weird to think of the world used to be. Smoothing her hands over the sheets she closed her eyes then licked her lips, as she laid back on the bed. When she opened her eyes she was staring at the ceiling she thought back to the funeral home and the things he’d said to her – clarifying those things he’d said to her; she wondered if they were true.

So many things were being left unsaid,  taking her mind off of her thoughts she rubbed her face and let out a long drawn out breath. _Everything will be okay, it will – it has to be,_ she thought to herself.

**...**

_ I ain’t afraid of nothin’. _

WhileBeth mightn’t notice the dynamic, Daryl does. He’s _observant_ **,** and once he notices something, he couldn't quit noticing her -- _it_. Normally it’s smaller things, like animal tracks of a tinkle of rocks stuck in his wheel. He notices so much more than he lets on, and the hard thing is _Beth_ is what he's noticed. She was around, as long as Maggie or... Daryl thought about it, and the Greene sisters’ were the only people left from their farm. But that isn’t the point. The point was, she'd been around, and he'd noticed her, and he'd protected her, and brought her little things from runs at the prison to decorate her cell, and he'd caught her wrist when the Governor showed up, and -- and he was noticing her again, and it wasn't something he knew what to do with.

And she was demanding he take a warm soft bed, share a room with her. Not a bed, just a room. He allowed this to slide, fingers raking over the back of his head, dull nails digging at his scalp.

❛Stay.❜

Daryl pointed at her, a _shift_ clear. He was terrible with words, God awful, a mess of grunts and growls and a few too many fucks ups, but he could get her food. That was something he could do, and he’d – shit. It didn’t mean a damn thing, but he’d do it, and it’d be enough for him. It was something, close to an apology, closer to the time they’d shared at the funeral home. His stomach near dropped to his damn knees, and he wanted to kick himself in the teeth. It wasn’t anything like that. They’d been dumb and distracted, and he had fucked up, and they were gonna work past it. Beth, even dispassionate and tired, made him want to try.

WhateverBeth wanted, he wanted. Fuck whatever his dumb brain was telling him. Fuck the pang in his chest, and good _goddamn_ riddance to this simpering bullshit. It wasn’t helping her, and it sure as fuck wasn’t helping him. He had gotten rid of the walkers, and then watched her mull about the space gently, sweetly, like it was still a place to be respected. There were corpses all around, and she was flicking through pamphlets. Whether she was too well-adjusted, or ignorant, he didn’t give a shit.

Rickstepped closer to Daryl as he picked through the ruffle bag of rations. ❛She okay?❜

Daryl nodded once, Adam's apple jumping visibly as he failed to find words. She was better than okay, and worse than okay, and Daryl didn't fucking  _know_ what she was, but she was alive.

❛Good.❜

Andthere was silence. Rick stood by Daryl, and Daryl continued to pick through the bag. He was trying to find the least expired food, something without meat, something a little sweet – she liked peanut butter. Or  _shit_ , was it jelly? He mulled over two tins, knowing they had neither. Rick pointed to the creamed corn.

❛Lorihated that stuff.❜ Rick clapped Daryl on the shoulder, only to walk back over to Michonne. 

Daryltossed the can back. He was left with a can of peaches, which wasn’t _proper_ food, but it wasn’t about that. Not right now. He’d catch something in the morning, or after she’d gone to sleep. Maybe set some traps tonight, and check them tomorrow morning. He weighed the can in his hand before looking back to the line of doors.

Actions speak louder than words and all that.

He strutted back in, unhooked his crossbow from his shoulders and dropped it onto the bed Beth wasn’t on. He sat down, near bouncing off the bed. One leg was kicked up, his elbow on his knee, foot on the covers. He had taken a smaller knife from his pocket, one that he kept specially for food. He wasn’t gonna trust a weapon he used for killing for food, not unless the situation was  _dire_.

❛Y'better damn well like peaches, ‘cause otherwise ya shit outta luck.❜ A pet name near slipped out, but he’d caught it. Things couldn’t be how they were. Things couldn’t be the way he wanted them to be. Things would be whatever they were, and Daryl wasn’t gonna let his _anger_ at Grady take Beth away from him. Enough things in this dumb world were already doing that. He was trying to be who he was, not who he _was_.


	3. Closer.

**_Stay._ **

Hearing  him speak was foreign, given that he hadn’t much talked to her since they’d gotten out of the car. There had been a couple a moments where she’d thought he might actually talk to her – but to no avail; it never happened. “ _ stay” _ his words were serious so she did as she was told not feeling like getting up anyway. There was a dark cloud that had been built up inside her throughout the time she’d spent in Grady Memorial. There was no ignorance that lingered in her heart, there was no fear of the future because right now Beth was alive. Against all odds, she survived when surely there were much more capable people who had died in measly situations that people never thought about.

_ “Y'better damn well like peaches, ‘cause otherwise ya shit outta luck.”   _ H is voice sounded as settled him self on the bed across from hers and she sat herself up on her elbows to look at him. Of course she was surprised by his being verbal – she remembered he wasn’t really one to talk much till they got to the funeral home; there she felt like he really opened up to her, they talked about everything. 

Wanting  to talk to him about what had happened and words they’d shared; well she was nervous. Not so much about talking with Daryl, more along the lines of if he’d get upset with her even if she could handle his spouts of anger and harsh words he only spoke to cover up how he felt; it didn’t make it easier. “Did you mean it?” she asked him as she looked at him, there was no mistaking what she was talking about – her eyes were glued to him; watching his every movement as she waited for some kind of adverse reaction to the words she’d said.

“Back  at the funeral home, all those things you said – I’ve been thinkin’ bout them a lot, and maybe we should have just… took the food and went.” Her voice was a whisper. Being taken had really put a halt to whatever friendship they had before. It seemed slow going, like when you’re letting up on the brakes of a car so it started rolling but right now the brakes seemed to be let up only so little the car would rock if someone brushed against it.

“I know wonderin’ about what if’s ain’t gonna help, but I can’t help but wish we wouldn’t have stayed,” she said to him. “Because then maybe we would be…” she trailed off unsure how to finish the sentence and she looked at the can of peaches – it did look pretty good; and she loved peaches, if only she could find some fresh ones – that would make her day.

...

Daryl  had pried the tin lid off with relative ease. He was sucking the peach juice off his hand when Beth sat back up, but he wasn’t really ready. Around her, he never was. It didn’t matter that by all accounts, he had the advantage of age or experience or whatever you wanted to bring up, he was lost. She was staring, and saying little, and not reaching for the peaches. She was eyeing him off, like he was a particularly tangled knot in a rope.

Things  always went down around food. It’d never been the case before. He’d eaten when he was hungry, with people who were hungover or lit, or both. He wouldn’t speak, or make eye contact, and he wouldn’t tip much. He wouldn’t eat much at home, not unless it was something he’d gotten takeaway, or a frozen pizza that was four months past its use date. Or whatever he caught himself. Peach juice off his hand? Wasn’t exactly a  _ meal _ , but may as well have been.

Daryl's  hand dropped from his mouth, and he tried to wipe it off on his pants, not sure what she was going to  _ pick  _ at.

And  then his stomach went all the fucking way to _China_ , big blue eyes and a soft voice, asking if he  _ meant  _ it. The question really was, what  _ had  _ he meant. He sure as hell didn’t know, and words weren’t coming to him. All he felt was a tightening in his chest and the urge to get up and leave. He set the peaches on the dresser between them, poking it in her direction. Once it was out of his hands, he sat back, elbows on his knees, hands sticky and fidgeting in front of him.

All  he can do is shrug, and swallow hard, and fight his instincts. He was pushing at his lips, biting at the dead skin and pretty sure they were on their way to bleeding. He smoothed his hand across his mouth and chin instead, stifling all the stupid things he wanted to say. After too long a time, and a few mumbled words, Daryl met her eye.

❛Don't  matter what we  _ woulda  _ been.❜ Daryl let his hand drop, throat visibly shifting as he swallowed. He has his fist balled up on his knee, shoulders tense, throat worst of all. It was dry and uncooperative, and he was desperate to finish his thought. ❛It’s what we are. Safe.❜ And Daryl looked at the floor again. He knew it mattered. Their time apart mattered. Him chasing that car mattered. His fight with Len mattered. His time at Terminus mattered. His struggle with Carol to chase that car down, and Noah, and then that hallway, and that  _ gunshot _ – 

❛That's  all we gotta be. Safe, and t’gether – with Rick, and Maggie, and Glenn, and all of ‘em.❜ Daryl jerked his head sideways, immediately broadening the definition of ‘together’, as if it would cover his fuck up.

...

 

When he pushed the peaches towards her she glanced at them but his words more or less made her sigh a little – maybe she’d imagined it all? Had it been stupid of her to think he felt something even more than some kind of a friendship? Remembering everything he’d taught her, and how she had wanted to see him again so badly are what drove her to do the things she had while she was in Grady – sure seeing her sister was on that list; but she had no idea if she was alive or where to even start looking. With Daryl she had a general idea of where he might be, and to her that was all that had mattered, then together they could have found the others.

“Oh,” she said softly, and suddenly it was like that night in the kitchen all over again, but instead of her heart fluttering at the words he’d said to her it sunk; everything maybe had been circumstantial – they had been alone together for a long while, maybe something changed due to their surroundings; or maybe they hadn’t at all and she was imagining things.

Thinking before she spoke she took her eyes off him then picked a peach out of the can and ate it, “Being safe is good,” she whispered and she moved to lean up against the headboard on her bed. Beth closed her eyes and shook her head when she felt her eyes prick with tears – she was  DAMN tired of crying all the time. Everything had gone to hell, and right now the silence was semi-comforting but all she wanted was for him to hold her hand again; like he had  _ before _ . She ate a couple more slices before she climbed off the bed and grabbed one of the rags using the sink to was herself in the sink – not feeling much like taking a shower only to get back into dirty clothing.

“Doesn’t hurt to think about what could’ve happened,” she said as she turned to look at him then washed the dirt off her face and cleaning her cuts on her face. “Gives us something look forward to, cause maybe things could go back to how they were; ‘fore I was taken.”

_ Wishful thinking _ on Beth’s part but she only wanted to be close to everyone like she was before the prison had fallen – before everyone got separated. Wincing slightly she put a hand on her leg – when she’d fallen she had gotten a gash on her leg. It spanned down her outer thigh, deeper at the top and more shallow at the bottom. Beth had meant to change before she’d gotten into the car. Grabbing the shorts from her bag that Maggie had given her before they left the hospital, she told her to wear them instead of jeans till her leg healed up.  After going to the bathroom to change she felt weird with her legs exposed – the little things bothered her now – like noticing she hadn’t been able to shave in over a year.

She looked at her leg the best she could but it was in an awkward position so she did what she could with how well she could see the cut, wiping it with the rag was more painful than she had anticipated; crying out she covered her mouth then slammed her hand on the cabinet for a moment before shaking her head a little. The blood on the rag was dark and she chewed on her bottom lip. “Does it look infected?”

...

There __ was silence as Beth ate, and Daryl sat in thought. He was content to just sit here, with her, and say nothing. He had little to make known. It was difficult, putting into words what he meant. He could only try, and hope, and that wasn’t working so far. He drew his feet up, elbows locked at his knees. There was a television between them, but it wouldn’t work. He stared at it out of habit, with no picture, no words, just a square of plastic with a glass screen. An old TV. There was a disconnect between what he intended, and what she had heard. Rather than  _ happy _ , she was taking it All Wrong. Hell, she hadn’t gotten his intent, and he must’ve fucked up.

No shock there,  but this was important.

This was weeks of mulling over a conversation, not in the moment. In the moment, maybe things could have flowed. They would have done something stupid, but they’d have done something. It would have been better than this hands-off, too-careful, nervous mess. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she went to the sink, and looked away when she looked to him. The scars, he’d get used to. Once they healed over, they wouldn’t crack and bleed, and it’d be less painful for her.

What _ could have been?  _ He wasn’t once to mince words, but he also didn’t push his emotions out into the world. He didn’t get wrapped up in saying how he felt, he just  _ did  _ things. He’d touch her shoulder or cheek, hold her hand, they’d sit in the quiet… He didn’t know how to explain to her, this was different for him. He wasn’t one for waxing lyrical or heartfelt confessions, no matter what had happened between them in the past.

Beth  Greene brought out a lot of things in him he didn’t otherwise feel. He didn’t tell stories of his past, he didn’t linger, he didn’t chase, he sure as Hell didn’t  _ want  _ people. He couldn’t stomach it. It was clinging and painful and didn’t suit him. But he remained on that bed, jaw working over his inner cheek, not sure how to breach the topic she was insisting upon him. It wasn’t his place. But then she’s cleaning her skin, blood pinking up her cheeks and there’s a  _ cry _ .

Daryl  is by her, quick as lightning. She had changed into shorts, which he didn’t much approve of _. _ Her legs were exposed, and she was going to bang up her knees, and walkers could rip clean through her – but the angle hid the worst of it. It wasn’t till he was standing by her, and what he saw was bad.

❛C'mere.❜

And he scooped her up, impatient. He had her up on the bed before she could say otherwise, her injured thigh faced up, his hands at her skin. He had set her down with care, but was too busy trying to get a look at her leg. Didn't matter there was pale skin, laid out, softer than anything he'd touched before, gentle hues of veins hidden, downy hair across the surface. Because the good parts, they didn't grab his attention. The bad parts, they  _did_.

The  skin was red, swollen, but it wasn’t pus-filled, or festering, and she was young. He thought that with mixed feelings, but it was true. Given the safety of the hospital, and the cleanness of it, she would've been fine there. He hooked a thumb into the leg of her shorts, to check how far the cut went. It didn’t even go an inch higher, so he withdrew, casting a post-action apology tilt of his head. It was a matter of  _ health _ , not comfort. He kept focused on her leg, ignoring her soft skin and their proximity.

❛What  happened?❜ And he was tearing apart a pillowcase, the fabric to be used as a cover. He was tearing it into one long strip, his attention split between her and the work at hand. He'd done this before.

...

Beth  looked at him then glanced back down at her leg.

“I fell some glass caught my leg and when they picked me up it dragged down my leg,” she explained to him. The prodding brought a wince from her lips, but she covered it by licking at her lips. They were dry, likely from all the absent licking. It reminded her that she needed to drink more water - chapped lips seemed chronic now because she was dehydrated more often than not. But she had something worse than chapped lips to deal with.

The moment the cut had happened, she felt a kind of pain she had never experienced in her entire life. In the way of injuries she’d gotten quite lucky. A few sprained wrists or ankles here and there, but usually she was fine. Never anything quite as serious as this wound seemed to be.

“Hid it because they were already upset with me. Last thing I wanted was for’em to find another reason to hurt me.”

There  was a moment of silence as he ripped up the pillow case - her leg throbbed from her cleaning it to the best of her ability. Absently, she traced the edges of the wound. Testing to see if it hurt, and how badly.

“Doesn’t need stitches does it? 'Cause I’d rather not.” She looked at it again - the cut was deep and long, something that had taken her by surprise when she’d first seen it. With there nothing to numb her if she needed stitches she knew she’d probably cry - she wasn’t very pain tolerant and while she was brave to an extent she didn’t feel like she’d handle having her skin sewn very well. 

“I  didn’t think it was too bad, it hurts more today than it did when it happened.” She looked between him as he prepared the bandages, and the cut itself.

...

❛Y’got  no luck hey, Greene.❜

Daryl __ remained perched by the bed, on his knees. His mind was blank as he tore the fabric.

_Wasn't much to think about,_ he told himself.

_ Good lie. _

Once finished he set the fabric aside, leg jigging with energy. He knew they needed something to clean the wound at least, and he wished she had owned up to the problem at Grady. He understood, though. She didn’t want to owe them too much, and she didn’t trust them. They were shitty people, and it just  _ sucked _ – their setup was amazing, in terms of medical equipment. They could have saved Hershel a lot of stress in the prison, and the outbreak, that wouldn’t have happened.

❛More __ a question of, do we got the supplies t’stitch it up.❜ Daryl rocked up onto his knees, steadying himself with his hip against the bed. He dragged her closer by the hips, gentle but decisive. ❛Least we can stop anything else goin’ into it.❜

And __ he pressed the top of the makeshift bandages to the spot just before, just behind the wound. He focused on her leg, wrapping it as firmly and carefully as he could. It didn’t register where they were, where he was working. Didn’t matter about the warmth of her skin, or the softness of her thighs. Shit was more important that that, and Daryl would be damned if he’d take any  _ more  _ from this than him helping her out.

Daryl's  attention was downward focused, somewhere around her knee.

❛What you said before… We can’t go back.❜ He finished off the wrappings, lips tightly formed around his teeth, worrying and working over the words in his head.  ❛But, we don’t have to. That’s what I’m sayin’. We’re here  _ now _ . Things’re different. They’re always gonna be different.❜ He shrugged a shoulder, hands now on his thighs, mouth not cooperating.

...

Beth looked at him as he wrapped her leg up with the torn pillow case.

“I know things are different.” Beth looked at her hands then back up at him. She took time to think about what she was going to say carefully - she wanted to come forward; not to put pressure on him because she saw how he was when he felt cornered - that was the last thing she wanted to do. After everything, it was now she was having issues forming words? At Grady she had been pretty outspoken but for some reason when she looked at him her mouth clammed shut and she was a lot less perceptive. 

“I don’t mean literally - go back, I meant…I thought we were closer I guess,” she murmured her cheeks were flaring pink now and she cursed her fair skin that never seemed to darken no matter how much sun she’d gotten. “Figured that maybe, I don’t know.” She sighed as she looked away feeling her heart hammering in her chest. Beth didn’t know what she wanted, but she felt saying she wanted Daryl was bold and brazen - and she didn’t know what exactly she wanted. Beth didn’t have a lot of experience with relationships or anything of the intimate nature; so when it came to feelings of the heart - she was very leery. 

Not knowing what she was thinking at this moment she let out a deep breath, her words still escaped her. There was nothing she could do to form the words she wanted without turning into a mess of emotions that she wasn’t even sure she knew how to feel - what was love for someone that wasn’t of the family type; she had thought she felt it before but this felt different - and she wasn’t sure if she could handle rejection if that's what was happening.

...

Daryl  sat back against the dresser, the one between their beds. It wasn’t comfortable, but nothing ever really _was_ for him. It was better than being crouched at her side, forcing himself into her space. And okay, maybe he could be comfortable, by her side. He kept a wary eye on her leg, his focus shifting from the injury to the expanse of leg. It hadn’t been something he noticed, even with his hands on her, her on the bed – it wasn’t like that, not for him. She was haloed by the ornate wall fixture, headboard, whatever the fuck it was called. She was having as hard a time as him for once, so he could appreciate that. At least he wasn’t alone in his confusion and inability to speak.

❛Closer?❜

Daryl  continued to stare at the empty TV set, forward focused, squared shouldered and tense. How much closer could they be? He had no issues with her in his personal space, and that in itself was big for him. It mightn’t register for her, but she got a lot more lenience than most. He didn’t flinch away from her, and he didn’t push her away – not often. They’d fight, and they’d always fight, but it was never out of anger. It was out of concern, and frustration, and worry. It wasn’t from a hateful place.

It wasn't from the usual place he fought from.

All  Daryl wanted to do was to get up and go out the door. He’s sick of the  _ tone _ , and how uncertain they both are. In this world, you don’t get a lot of happiness. You get little snatches of it, between fuck ups and walkers and people, and you have to make the most of it.

❛You're  not stupid. You knew what I was sayin’, before.❜

And he swallowed hard, looking over, anywhere that wasn’t at Beth. He shifted, sitting up, sitting forward.

...

Looking at him she nodded a little then smiled at him then sighed.

“You’re a good man, Daryl,” she said softly - she always felt the need to remind him. Beth didn’t know why but it was something she felt most people needed to hear these days. She shifted so her back was against the headboard and she looked at the ceiling then put her hand on her stomach when she heard it growl. Slowly getting up out of the bed she walked over to get a bottle of water to fill her stomach with something her body could use, it would keep her full till she could get something to sustain her properly. 

“Where do you think we’re goin’ after this?” she asked as she went back to the bed and sat next to him, her eyes seeking out his own. Beth Greene loved eye contact - when she spoke with someone she liked for them to look at her; made her feel like they were at least listening. “Maybe we could find a farm like Daddy’s,” she offered as a thought - but she knew that walls were a necessity but they could make walls - right? 

“Or even a gated community of some sort - we’d have to clean it out but it would have walls already,” she said to him as she looked at him, she knew she’d invited him in for quiet but now that she wasn’t feeling so upset she kind of wanted to talk to him a bit. They used to talk a lot when they were alone for those few months, and she learned a lot of things from him; knowing she wouldn’t have survived without him telling her some of the things that he had.

...

Daryl  offered a tight-lipped smile and a nod when she said he was a _good man_. He didn’t feel like one, but that wasn’t saying much. He felt pretty awful most days, but he wasn’t going to outright tell her that. It didn’t matter. His issues didn’t inhibit him so much that he couldn’t protect the group, and they didn’t effect anyone except himself. That he _knew,_ anyway.

Daryl watched her as she got up and drank, only to have her pace back. The water was a godsend, and he’d be making short work of it once their conversation fizzled out.

❛We're  goin’ south – southwest, so far as I know. DC.❜ Daryl shrugged, his hand still by his mouth. He’d developed a nasty habit of fidgeting and messing with his lips. Probably trying to keep himself shut up, he guessed. Daryl looked back to Beth, keeping eye contact for as long as he could manage. He wasn’t intimidated, and he wasn’t afraid, but he didn’t often  _ look  _ people in the eye. Not unless it was to fight them, to establish his defiance or defense.

It wasn’t often like _this_.

A  constant refrain with Beth, he’d noticed.

❛Don't  know where we’re gonna end up.❜ All he hoped was that they would be safe. It’d be  _ nice  _ to have somewhere like the prison, with nicer walls, and stronger defenses. The motel would do for a day, two days at most, but they needed a plan and a direction. Daryl had neither. Rick and Michonne were no doubt mulling over the question, which left Daryl feeling  _ out _ of the picture.

And  with that he pushed himself up, fixing his clothes back into position. He reached out to give her hand a quick squeeze, lips drawn to the side. It was brief, and gentle, and he was off with his crossbow before waiting for Beth to say a word. His intent was implied.

_ I'll be back.  _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Let us know if you liked it, leave a kudos if you want to see more, or a comment. Updates should come out weekly.


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